Secrets of Gor Chapter Sixteen

 

A blanket of despair settled over me now that I knew I would be kept as a slave until I achieved some sort of competency in bondage. Every evening Raisa would provide the Mistress of the House with an assessment, and so far that assessment had been poor. 

 

“She is clumsy, not yet in touch with her slave belly, unskilled, and stiff when she moves. She has much to learn, and seems unmotivated to do so,” remarked Raisa after Simon had left that night.

 

“Oh, I think she has motivation to better herself now,” remarked Donna. “Remember, Cassie, the onus is on you, yourself, to learn the skills to be a pleasing House slave.”

 

I was hyper ventilating, realising that unlike Emma, who was taught everything she needed to know in the slave pens of Banu Hashim, I would have to somehow learn everything by myself. How was that going to be possible!

 

I didn’t even know what a slave girl needed to learn, let alone how to learn it.

 

“Some things you will learn by watching Cath and I,” remarked Raisa. “Other things you may ask us, and if we have time we will show you. And as you make friends with slaves outside of the house, they too may teach you things. But it is up to you to learn.”

 

I felt faint. I felt like I was going to pass out. I was branded! I wore a collar! There were slave papers recording every detail of my body! I was trapped until Donna released me, and she would not do that until I was skilled enough to provide a day and a night of service at the minimum level of an experienced House Slave. There was no way I could possibly do so without fully immersing myself in being a slave. 

 

That night, my second night in the house, I found a change waiting for me in the basement. A third kennel pen had been fitted on the side facing the other two. I now had my own kennel, and wouldn’t be sharing a kennel with Cath. 

 

“We’ll still be friends,” said Cath as she hugged me close. “You just have your own kennel now. Your own little space.”

 

“I don’t want to sleep alone,” I cried. “I’m scared! I’m so very scared!”

 

“Hush. I know.” She hugged me again. “The shock is setting in now, isn’t it? It’s always like this to begin with. I think you’ve spent a day in disbelief, fooling yourself, telling yourself this isn’t real, and now you’ve woken up and you realise it is. You are a slave, Cassie. This is your life now.” 

 

Simon had left me! He had backed down from Donna! How could he do this! He was a man! He should have just taken me back home!

 

“You’re always welcome to visit me, Simon,” Donna had said with a winning smile as she regarded his confused expression. “Obviously, give me a little notice in advance. A few days’ notice perhaps, as I’m often busy.”

 

“You’ll let me see Cassie?”

“Well, of course, Cassie and the other girls will be working around the house, so yes, you’ll see them, on their knees, scrubbing floors, serving me.”

 

“I mean…” Simon looked even more flustered now. He gazed at me with unbridled longing. “Can I spend time with her? Alone?”

 

“Men,” said Donna, with an amused expression. She paced around Simon and briefly touched his arm, feeling the muscles there. “So lustful at the sight of a kajira in a brief white tunic. I suppose she is rather adorable. Any guest who stays over for the night can of course put one of my girls to use. It is  common hospitality.”

 

Simon would have to make an appointment in advance to see me, and then he would be permitted some time with me in the guest bedroom. No doubt I would be handed to him, leashed, as an act of hospitality. I felt horrified at the prospect of being given over to men like some sort of… slave girl. And…

 

“Any guest?” I said, alarmed now.

 

“I suspect my other guests will ask for Raisa. You are untrained and you don’t know how to please a man, Cassie. It’s only Simon who seems to be interested in you.”

 

“Don’t leave me here!” I rushed over to Simon and held his hands in mine. He looked very embarrassed as he tried not to stare hungrily at my breasts. 

 

“It will just be for a while, Cassie,” he said.

 

“I don’t want to be a slave! I really don’t! Please take me home!”

 

“I… I can’t… Donna won’t let me.” He looked a bit ashamed at how he was backing down from her. “She will let me visit and spend some time with you, if I ask her.”

 

“No! Take me home!”

 

“CASSIE!” Donna clicked he finger and spoke in that sharp authoritative voice of hers that made everyone jump, Simon included. “That is ENOUGH! Heel! Floor! NOW!”

 

I rushed to the floor and knelt with my head down to the floor by her feet.

 

“Good girl.” She turned to regard Simon. “Do come round again soon, Simon. It’s always such a pleasure to spend some time with you.”

 

 

 

From now on I was worked very hard, and Raisa began to expect complete obedience and submission. I learned that I was to always drop to my knees when she entered a room, and that I was to bow my head until she acknowledged me. She would reprimand me for things I didn’t even realise I was doing wrong – in particular my posture and way of walking.

 

“You walk like a Free Woman, but you’re not a Free Woman. You will learn to walk like a slave, instinctively and naturally.” She insisted I moved in a far more feminine manner than Free Women might do in their stiff brocade outer gowns and heavy cumbersome layers of fabric. I was made to walk with a subtle wiggle to my hips, taking small, quick steps if I was in a hurry, but always moving gracefully.

 

“You are water, Cassie, flowing gently to the sea. Passive, submissive, obedient. Men want you to move in a way they find attractive. Your destination is less important than the manner in which you reach it.”

 

Often during the day I would hear the word, “posture!”, quickly followed by a swipe of the switch that made me cry out. I learned to keep my spine straight, my arms relaxed and my fingers loose as I took pretty steps. 

 

“And smile,” Raisa would say. “Your Mistress wants to see a pleasing expression, not a sour faced kajira.”

 

I would be expected to look happy, even if I were not, which was most of the time. And I learned not to look directly at a Free Woman unless commanded to do so. 

 

“Soon you will instinctively fear meeting a Free Woman’s gaze,” explained Raisa, “which is appropriate for a slave. A Free Woman is a million times better than you. How dare you even think of gazing upon her. Soon, even the thought of doing so will scare you deeply to your core. The fear will grow instinctively.”

 

My brand began to heal and become less painful as the days passed. 

 

On the ninth day, Victor returned from his field work. At first he was surprised and intrigued to see a new girl in the house, but then Donna took him to one side and explained the matter to him. When he emerged from their room, he gazed at me with renewed interest, sending Raisa away on an errand.

 

“Cassandra,” he said, hardly believing, perhaps, what he had been told.

 

“Master,” I said, not daring to call him Victor, for I feared this might be some sort of test in using my full name. Was he trying to catch me off guard by calling me that? 

 

“Well, you’re quite the beauty, freed of those cumbersome clothes,” he said as he motioned me close. “I think this is the first time I have ever seen you unveiled, and certainly the first time without your fine robes and gowns. Come.”

 

Victor escorted me into a room that had so far been off-limits to me and the other slaves – the small study that he and Donna used for their work – where we had all been forbidden to intrude. Inside there was a wide high desk overlooking the small courtyard; a desk that seemed cluttered with books, scrolls, charts, graphs and weighted stones. There was a solid backed chair, for I knew that Victor, having come to Gor from Earth, preferred the custom of his home planet that favoured chairs to sitting cross-legged on the floor. Such a barbaric thing to do. 

 

“Stand up straight,” he said as he closed the door. “And tug down your skirt. It’s risen up on your thighs. You are not a pleasure slave, nor should you flaunt yourself before your Mistress like that. You are a Lady’s slave. You must b demure and unprovocative.”

 

I blushed as I realised how easily my tunic skirt had moved up my legs. A quick tug gave me a little more modesty. 

 

“Act like a slut and you will be treated like a slut,” said Victor as he examined a few papers with his back to me. “I shouldn’t be having to tell you this.”

 

“The rep cloth is tight and clingy, Master, and it rides up as I walk. I’m not used to being dressed like this.”

 

“Then pay attention to it,” remarked Victor. “You belong to a Lady. Ensure you comport yourself in a way that does not offend a Free Woman, or there will inevitably be consequences. Again, I shouldn’t have to tell you this.” There was silence in the study for a moment. All around me there were racks of books and scrolls. I had never seen so much writing, not even in the home of a scribe. What little bare wall remained was covered in incomprehensible charts on which curved lines with numbers had been drawn. Some of these markings, Cath had told me, were the area locations of gravity distortions, though I had little understanding of what that might mean. The air in the room was dry with the scent of gently ageing paper and a trace of orange and cinnamon that came from a scented pomander hung from the window. “I thought we should talk.” Victor moved towards me and adjusted the wide, plunging V-shaped gap of the tunic that I wore, so that the swell of my breasts wasn’t so obvious. “You have a general permission to speak freely in this room when you are alone with me – a permission you will not have elsewhere, and a permission that I may withdraw at any moment. Let me be clear about a few things, Cassandra. While I was not party to this arrangement, and to be frank, I would have discouraged it, I consider you now a slave while you wear that collar. We have a past history, and so this is probably awkward for both of us. You have entertained me to dinner on many occasions, and you have been a generous host. But so long as you are branded and collared, you are a slave. That said, you may speak to me here without fear of being reprimanded, and there is no need to call me Master until we leave.”

 

“Please, Victor. I just want this to end. Let me go home. Please.”

 

“Cassandra, let me finish, and then you can speak. My chief concern, when Donna explained this unusual situation, is that I know how petty and vindictive you can be. Donna may think she is above reproach in all things, but I know your history for settling scores. Right now you’re probably entertaining thoughts as to how you might kill us both when all this is over.”

 

“Victor, no, of course not,” I lied. “You’re my dearest friends.” 

 

He waved my protest aside. “As I do not relish the thought of being boiled alive in Tharlarion oil by your thugs, or having my entrails dragged from my body while I’m still breathing, I have taken precautions and I have written a letter to the Sardar that they are to open in the event of Donna and myself disappearing. The Priest Kings are not human. They don’t care that Donna hurt your feelings. They don’t care why you might want revenge. They, in fact, don’t care about you in the slightest. Your fate is of no concern to them. All they care about is that Donna is a valuable asset and it would take a decade or two to replace her loss. You may think you and your family can act with impunity on Gor, but believe me when I say that if you offend the Priest Kings, they will have you killed. And don’t think they will spare you because your brother works for them. They are alien hive minds and they don’t comprehend family loyalty or feel they owe anything to it.”

 

My expression must have looked impassive as Victor continued. “I see. You think your armed men will protect you from the assassins of the Priest Kings, don’t you? Decades ago, Tarl Cabot was warned by Samos of Port Kar that a death order had been signed for him, and Cabot was to be killed. Cabot is the greatest warrior on Gor, he is an admiral of Port Kar and can command as many men of the city as he needs, but when he received the warning from Samos he ran and he hid himself. He did that because he knew that if the first assassin didn’t kill him, the next one might, and they would keep coming, they would never stop, until he was dead. That’s what you would face if you hurt Donna: the wrath of the Priest Kings. Do you honestly think you have a better chance than Tarl Cabot? Forget about vengeance, and then we can all sleep soundly in our beds.”

 

I nodded, and put aside any thoughts of having Donna kidnapped, trained as a pleasure slave, and sold in the city of Lara for seven copper tarsks, which obviously I wouldn’t have done anyway. Victor was probably right, much as I hated to admit it. The Priest Kings would kill me if I disrespected them.

 

“This has been a mistake,” I said. “Please let me go home.”

 

“You are home,” said Victor. He placed his hands on my hips and stroked my hair, turning my face, lifting my chin with his fingers. “I think you’ll have learned a valuable lesson by the end of your service in this house. Yes, I think you will be a changed girl, maybe in ways you hadn’t expected.”

 

“When will that be? I can’t stay here! I’m an important woman in Vonda! I have obligations, responsibilities! I will be missed.”

 

“Simon is attending your house and will keep order. And I suspect your obligations in social circles are far less important than you imagine they are. I’m surprised by what Donna is doing, by what you agreed to, but it’s very typical of Donna to adopt the sharp shock approach. Though I confess you’d make a very lovely kajira.” He touched my collar and turned the collar ring round in its steel fastening. “I stand by my woman, though I wish she’d consulted me. Apparently, I can put you to use if I wish.”

 

I looked stunned. “No, please, no…”

 

Victor laughed. “You don’t find me handsome? Desirable? A virile Master? I should be offended. Perhaps you think I’m weak because I come from Earth?”

 

“It’s… it’s not that… it’s just not appropriate,” I said. “I know you. We have dined together. We talked about literature and music.”

 

“And I know you. I’ve always been fond of you, Cassandra. Very fond of you, in fact. My imagination had to step in on those long nights when the three of us dined together. I had scraps of description, from Donna, to what you might look like, but mostly it was my imagination. The veils and robes lend a woman an air of mystery. I have to say, I’m pleased with the reality that stands before me now.”

 

There it was again, he used my real name. I felt a stirring of hope. Unlike Donna, Victor’s heart wasn’t really in this short sharp shock approach. He might be reasoned with! He might understand my terrible predicament!

 

“You seem reasonable,” I said. “Please understand this isn’t what I agreed to.”

 

“Oh?” He lifted my chin again and looked at my lips that to my shame were painted in deep red lipstick. Had Raisa told me to use cosmetics today because she knew the Master was returning to the house? 

 

“How so?” he asked.

 

“I was supposed to spend a single day and night here.”

 

“As a house slave. And so you will, but apparently you have yet to even begin to approach that standard. I am told you still move stiffly. There’s precious little wiggle to your bottom and hips.”

 

“I don’t want to walk with a wiggle to my bottom and hips!”

 

“You may be here a while then, until that wiggle becomes second nature.”

 

“Oh!” I clenched my fists in frustration. “There has to be an end to this!”

 

“I suppose there will be, once you pass as a convincing house slave.”

 

“How long will that take?!”

 

“You tell me, Cassandra. You’re the one who has to do the work to improve your submission. I am told that being put to use teaches a girl her slavery. Perhaps that might help?”

 

“Don’t! Don’t even think of it!” I slapped his hand away, and this made him laugh. His eyes crinkled as he did so. 

 

“I’m entitled to whip you as well, you know?”

 

“Don’t you dare! I’m Cassandra Assante!”

 

“I suspect an Assante bottom would take to the whip as much as any other girl’s bottom might. Shall we see?”

 

“No!” I pouted and tried to be a little more placatory. I touched his chest gently with the palm of my left hand. “I’m fond of you too, Victor, as a friend, but I cannot permit you to be intimate with me. It would make things impossible between us once I am free of this collar.”

 

“Oh? And when will that be?”

 

“When you remove it from my throat, of course.”

 

“Of course.” He placed his hand on my bottom, up, under the scandalously brief skirt I wore. 

 

“Don’t touch me like that!” I pushed at him with my hand, but he suddenly pulled me firmly to his chest. “Oh!”

 

“I believe you’re squirming, Cassandra. It’s actually quite delightful.”

 

I held myself rigid still. I would not squirm against him! I knew Victor! I often had tea with him! We talked often about music and literature! How could he handle me like this!

 

“Why hasn’t Simon taken me home!”

 

“He has his reasons,” said Victor. “Perhaps he is enjoying some much needed peace and quiet with you away.”

 

“You’re being ridiculous! Simon will be distraught, right now. He will be depressed and hardly eating, wracked with worry.”

 

“Hmm. He seemed quite well at the gaming tables last night. And afterwards, with the two high priced alcove slaves that he paid for.”

 

“He is drowning his sorrow! He seeks distractions while he is consumed with worry for me.”

 

“Perhaps. If so, his sorrow must be considerable, for he needs much in the way of distracting comfort.”

 

“Raisa is so cruel to me,” I said. “She beats me for walking the wrong way. She beats me if I am slow with my chores.” I pouted as I gazed up at him. 

 

“That must be terrible,” agreed Victor. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

“What can I do! She is the First Girl here. She has a switch.” I frowned. “I can’t kill her.” I paused, and then looked up at him again. “Can I?”

 

“No, you can’t. You could try walking like a slave? And do your chores on time?”

 

“I’m Cassandra Assante!”

 

“Of course. My apologies. I forgot. It’s so easy to forget when you look so…”

 

“Oh!” His hands were all over me again. “Victor! No!”

 

As he stroked my bottom again, under the brief hemline of my tunic, his face grew rather more serious. “Cassandra, can I ask you a question?”

 

“What?” I touched his chest and gasped, for his hand under my skirt was actually rather pleasurable.

 

“How long has Simon been gambling at that club?”

 

“What? I don’t know… he goes there two or three times a week.” I gasped again. His hand was taking such liberties!

 

“He lost a lot of money last night. Is that common?”

 

“I don’t know. He hasn’t said. He has limited access to my money. I’m not stupid. When we were companioned I set a limit on how much money he could draw out from my bank each day. If he is losing some money gambling, it won’t be much in the scheme of things.”

 

“Strange then, for the sum last night was considerable. Many men talked about it afterwards.”

 

“Perhaps he has other sources of income then?” I was surprised if this was really the case. I suppose he received some money from his work as a Physician, but he was still an apprentice in his caste, and so the sums he earned weren’t particularly significant. “I would know if he had been drawing a lot of money from my account recently. I keep an eye on the transactions. I’m not stupid.”

 

“He was gambling with a lot of chips. He lost them all. So, you do keep an eye on your bank account?”

 

“Of course I do.” I began to subconsciously move my bottom against his hand, delighting in how it felt. “And as I said, Simon is limited in the amount of money he can withdraw in any given week. It is common in Free Companionship contracts. Oh!”

 

“Is something wrong?” Victor smiled as he saw me blush.

 

“Your hand!”

 

“What of it?”

 

“It… it… oh!” I squirmed against him.

 

“Ah. That. I didn’t realise you might react in such a shameful manner. Only slaves would normally react in such a way.”

 

“Do NOT touch me like that again!” I demanded.

 

“Of course not. I see how inappropriate that would be. You were saying?”

 

“There are safeguards. Simon can draw some spending money, but nothing that might significantly deplete my wealth. And the properties are… Ohhh!” I squirmed even harder against his body. “You touched me that wayagain!”

 

“Did I? I’m sorry. Your body is very distracting.”

 

“Beast!” I struck pathetically at his chest with my fists. “You have no idea how that feels!”

 

“No, but I can see the reaction it gets. I think you’re oiling for use Cassandra. Interesting. That means your body wishes to be used. Did you know that? It’ a biological reality, based on arousal.”

 

“Don’t say that!” I pulled away, but was quickly drawn back as his left arm held me tightly against his body.

 

“I confess I’m aroused enough to put you to use, because of the way you’ve been squirming against me,” said Victor. “Are you teasing me, Cassandra Assante?”

 

“No! Of course not! I’m not responsible for your state of arousal! Think of something else!” I could feel how hard he now was against my thigh. He was very much aroused. 

 

“This is something of a problem,” explained Victor sadly. “I have an unfortunate condition which means that when I grow hard, I remain that way for a considerable time, in discomfort, unless someone relieves me.”

 

“Well don’t expect me to… Ohh!” I found myself swiftly lifted up and deposited on my belly across the desk. “Victor!” I felt his hand pull my short tunic hem up around my waist.

 

“Ah, the elusive, mysterious, and ever so secretive Assante bottom, so rarely seen in the wild.” He stroked it with his hand. “Previously always obscured by layers upon layers of loose fitting, shapeless cloth. Shall I let you into a secret?”

 

“What?” I quivered as he stroked me like that.

 

“I have sometimes, in the past, fantasised about this bottom, idly speculating on what it might look like and how it might feel to the touch.”

 

“I suppose you must be disappointed. Your Free Companion tells me I’m fat.”

 

“Not at all. I see firm, ripe, peaches, crying out for a man to touch them. What she means is, you have slave curves.”

 

“Beast!” 

 

He slipped his own tunic from his body and pressed me down with one hand on the small of my back. “Part your legs, Cassandra.”

 

“No! I am Cassandra Assante! I am not yours to put to use and… Ohhh!”

 

Growing tired of waiting for my compliance, he simply pulled my ankles apart and entered me with a firm thrust. I gripped the edge of the desk, feeling myself swiftly and fully penetrated to my core. “Ohhhh!” I cried. He was fully inside me now!

 

“This feels much better,” said Victor as he caressed my body, moving slightly to maintain a deep thrusting motion. “You were saying about your financial arrangements?

 

I could hardly speak as I involuntarily clenched my sex around his hard penis, my body seemingly hungry for it. “I… I have my property holdings… ohhh…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“My…” I gasped again, “Holdings are safeguarded. They cannot be sold without… ohhhhhhhhhh…”

 

Victor was pushing hard inside me now. I squealed and tore madly at the desk with my fingernails.

 

“Try not to scratch the desk, Cassandra. We only bought it a few months ago.”

 

“The house… the house and the villa… ohhhhhh!”

 

“You’re not making much sense, but you really are delightful. Have you considered pleasure slave training?” He stroked the cheeks of my bottom as he continued to thrust into me. 

 

I could hardly think. “My brother, Brinn, he is second signatory for selling either the house or villa…” I was rocking wildly against his thrusts, meeting each one and riding along with them.

 

“A clever move, so Simon cannot choose to sell your properties without your brother signing off on the sale?”

 

“Yesssssss… ohhhhh!”

 

Are you close, pretty little kajira?”

 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I was thrashing wildly beneath him. “YES!”

 

“It sounds then, that you have nothing to worry about, though it is strange how much money Simon was losing. Still, your safeguards seem legal and above board. You may come, kajira.”

 

And I did, howling as I rode that delicious wave to paradise. 

 

Afterwards, Victor lay beside me for a while, stroking my body, letting me subside. “You will make a good slave I think,” he said. “You will need a lot of training, but the potential is there.”

 

I snuggled close to him, lost to the waves of pleasure that still flowed through my body. I wanted to be kissed and touched after an orgasm. I wanted to be held and possessed. Victor did all of that. I sighed as he played with my breasts, my tunic, now lying, discarded on the floor. 

 

“My nipples are very sensitive, Master,” I said. After I had climaxed he had instructed me I must now call him Master, and so I did, but that aside, I could continue to speak freely until I left the study. He told me it would be easier for me to spend a little while acclimatising my mind again to behaving as a slave, following this brief period of freedom of expression. At some point he would then remove my freedom to speak freely, and expect me to conduct myself verbally as a slave for half an ahn before being released back into the wider house.

 

“Is this better?” His touch was softer now and I cried out with pleasure and nodded frantically.  

 

“Your responses were encouraging,” Victor told me.

 

“Please don’t tell my Mistress.”

 

“We have no secrets, Donna and I,” he said. “None at all.”

 

“Master, please…”

 

“What is it you don’t me to tell Donna?”

 

“That…” I bit my tongue. I couldn’t say it.

 

“Tell me, and I will, this once, forget to mention it, if I feel it’s unimportant.”

 

“That I…” How could I say this! 

 

“Then I shall make my own accounting, if there is nothing you wish to forbid me saying?”

 

“Please don’t tell her that I have slave-like responses!”

 

“Ah. You think you have slave-like responses?”

 

I blushed and looked away from him.

 

“What sort of girl experiences slave-like responses?”

 

“Please…”

 

“I think we both know the answer to that question, Cassandra. A slave.” 

 

“It must be your secret,” I begged. 

 

“But you are incorrect, you do not have slave-like responses.”

 

“Oh?” I looked up at him, hopefully.

 

“You simply have slave responses.”

 

Slave responses! I began to fear that this might, in some way, be true. But how could this be? How could I have slave responses? It just didn’t make any sense. 

 

Later that day, Raisa approached me, and she didn’t look happy. Word had obviously circulated that Victor had put me to use in the study. Ordinarily Raisa would be the first choice. She now looked at me as if I might be some sort of long term threat. “Keep away from the Master, Cassie. This is your only warning.”

 

“He wanted to speak to me!”

 

“I can make things very difficult for you if you try and arouse his interest. As I said, this is your only warning.” 

 

And there I had learned another sharp lesson – in the kennels, there was a defined pecking order, and the girl on top would do her best to drive the other girls away from her Master. But this was not my fault! I hadn’t asked to be used! 

 

Days passed by, and I immersed myself in my chores, now working hard, always under the watchful eye of Raisa or Cath, or, sometimes Victor or Donna. Of all of them, Victor was the most forgiving. Occasionally, if he saw me scrubbing floors, tired, my hair dishevelled from the work, he would stop to re-arrange my hair, tell me I looked pretty in my tunic, and sometimes he would give me a little treat. Sometimes, if he liked the way I smiled, I would be given a small pastry from the kitchen! It was always delicious. He would break pieces off and feed them to me as I knelt on my hands and knees, receiving each piece between my teeth. Once, when he was feeding me like this, Raisa appeared, and, seeing my distress, he stopped and took Raisa away, to put her to use. That reassured her I wasn’t a threat yet, and saved me from her vengeance. 

 

“I understand,” he said to me, much later that day. “I understand how it is in a shared kennel. I will not give Raisa a reason to truly hate you.”

 

“What would you do if I beat her?” I asked.

 

“If a slave struck the First Girl, I would be expected to punish the slave. You would be whipped worse than you have ever been whipped before, and you would spend several nights in the box, howling with pain. Don’t test me on this, Cassie. I would have no choice. I can’t be seen to undermine kennel discipline.”

 

So I couldn’t hit Raisa, which meant I was helpless against her. 

 

I began to believe my life was settling into a pattern, and perhaps it would have done, with me becoming more and more proficient as a house slave, thinking, and moving instinctively as a kajira does, but then came the day when Sadric and Marissa of Corcyrus arrived. 

 

It was Victor who spoke to me as the man and woman were escorted into the lounge. I was working in the kitchen when Victor appeared and beckoned me over.

 

“Master?” I had been a house slave long enough now to instinctively drop to my knees before him, and, as the Lady Donna was not present, kneel before him in nadu. It felt right. It felt natural. 

 

“We have guests from the Sardar. Two agents. I thought you might like to know.” He smiled as he stroked my hair.

 

“You mean?”

 

“Yes, they have the nanobot spray that Donna will use to heal your thigh. You’re making progress, Cassie. This may be over soon.” He gazed down at me. “Donna is entertaining them now, catching up on gossip from the Sardar. We’re often out of the loop, so far away.”

“Master, did you say the Lady agent was called Marissa?”

“I did.”

“What is her Home Stone?”

 

“They are both of Corcyrus. The city is currently at war with Argentum, but their work for the Priest Kings takes them to other parts of Gor.”

 

“My brother worked for a time with a Priest King agent called Marissa of Corcyrus. They worked together in Port Kar against a silver mask conspiracy.”

 

“Oh?” Victor seemed curious. “Does she know you?”

“No, Master, and in any event, it can’t be the same woman. When my brother last saw her, she was claimed by Simon and taken as his slave. I believe Simon sold her to a slaver in Port Kar.”

“Another Marissa, then. As you say, it can’t be the same woman.”

 

“Victor.” We were suddenly interrupted by the sight of the Lady Donna, my mistress, in the doorway. Something in her expression suggested trouble. “Can you bring Cassie into the living room, please.”

 

“Is everything all right?” asked Victor. Like me he recognised Donna’s vexed expression. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

 

“Just bring Cassie into the living room.” She paused and considered something. “But lock her wrists behind her back in slave bracelets before you do.” And then she turned and left.